


warmth remembered

by EvanesDust



Series: AU: FIRST MEETINGS [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Kate Argent/Laura Hale - Freeform, M/M, Mentioned Kate Argent, No Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Pendants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21946726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanesDust/pseuds/EvanesDust
Summary: Stiles, like most people, was five-years-old when his mother gave him the necklace. Dangling from the thin silver chain was a tear-shaped pendant holding a beautiful stone. It appeared to glow from within, and as his small hand wrapped around the cool gem, he imagined it was a droplet of pure moonlight encased in glass.“Alright, my little Mischief.”His mother smiled at the look of awe on his face.“When your soulmate is near, that pendant will start to warm, becoming hotter the closer they are."
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: AU: FIRST MEETINGS [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1184156
Comments: 40
Kudos: 1015
Collections: Sterek Goodness, The Sterek Secret Santa - Edition 2019





	warmth remembered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zjofierose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/gifts).



> who requested soulmates, fluff, and angst with a happy ending
> 
> this is an edited version of what's been posted on tumblr thanks to some very lovely ladies, [jamie](https://jmeelee.tumblr.com/) and [steph](https://bewarethesmirk.tumblr.com/) (you guys are the BEST!)
> 
> the ever-lovely benaya-trash drew an amazingly beautiful piece for the fic!! if you haven't joined her [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Benaya_trash/posts), you should! and be sure to check her out on [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/benaya_trash/)!
> 
> *what even is a 'comma'? as always… all mistakes are my own*  
> *also tags… tags are hard :/ so if anything is missing please lemme know*

Stiles, like most people, was five-years-old when his mother gave him the necklace. Dangling from the thin silver chain was a tear-shaped pendant holding a beautiful stone. It appeared to glow from within, and as his small hand wrapped around the cool gem, he imagined it was a droplet of pure moonlight encased in glass. 

_“Alright, my little Mischief.”_ His mother smiled at the look of awe on his face. _“When your soulmate is near, that pendant will start to warm, becoming hotter the closer they are.”_

* * *

Stiles fiddles with the iridescent stone hanging around his neck. The unusually warm temperature of the pendant continuously buzzes at the edge of his awareness, like an annoying insect, whispering _maybe_ and _could be_. A more likely explanation is that he's standing next to a roaring fire and feeling a nice buzz from the couple of drinks he’s had. Yeah. That’s why his pendant is warm. Not at all because his soulmate is close. 

Stiles knows it’s impossible, despite what his inebriated brain wants to believe because he knows how it will feel. He had felt it once before, six years ago, as he sat at his father’s desk in the sheriff’s department. Of course, by that point, his mother had passed away and the only person he could ask about the jewelry warming his chest was his father, who was busy working. So instead, Stiles decided to wander around the bullpen.

Outside the sheriff’s office, he found a dark-haired boy, not much older than him, rubbing at his red, tear-stained cheeks. His clothes were filthy and ripped, covered in a fine layer of gray soot. As Stiles approached the boy, the warmth of the stone grew against his skin.

With his head tilted curiously, Stiles waited until the boy looked up at him. The piercing hazel eyes sent a shock through Stiles, but there was something in the vulnerable expression on the boy’s face that made Stiles’s heart ache. Though he hadn’t really shown any outward emotion since his mom died, Stiles leaned forward and wrapped his skinny arms around the boy.

A spark, like a jolt of electricity, sizzled when they touched. As Stiles gripped him tighter, he could feel the boy’s pendant, a hot point of pressure directly over his heart.

_Soulmates_.

Before Stiles could say or do anything, the sheriff came out of his office with a haggard, angry-looking young man and a devastated teenage girl, who’d also been crying. The girl went straight to the older boy, almost knocking Stiles out of the way. The boy looked at Stiles and then the girl, hissing, “ _Laura_!” 

The boy looked like he wanted to say something to Stiles, presumably apologize for the girl’s abrupt shove, but he was being wrapped up in a blanket and led away by the two people who’d exited the Sheriff’s office. Even though his name was called, Stiles stayed rooted in place, staring after him until the trio crossed the threshold to the lobby, venturing out of sight.

A few days later, when Stiles was cleaning, he found a file on the dining room table. Its contents reported on a house fire that claimed the lives of an entire family, save for three people: a young man named Peter Hale, his niece Laura Hale, a teenager, and Derek Hale, the boy Stiles had hugged. The boy he needed to find again because Stiles’s pendant had turned summer-warm in his presence.

Stiles never got the chance. 

The three remaining members of the Hale family moved away days after the fire, and the case remained unsolved. Coincidentally, Stiles’s pendant never warmed again.

Until now.

The sights and sounds of the party assault his senses, breaking him from his reverie. His classmates talk loudly and laugh raucously. The fire, warm and bright on his face, crackles and pops, while twigs, branches, and leaves crunch beneath the feet of people as they trample through the preserve.

It’s overwhelming when combined with the memory of Derek being gone, leaving him before they could even get to know one another. He stumbles back and, in his haste to get away from the cacophony of noise, trips over an exposed tree root. Instead of hurtling to his death, or at least a broken bone, two strong hands grab his waist and haul him up.

Stiles’s hands fly out instinctively, gripping his savior’s biceps until his feet are planted firmly on the ground. “Thanks, du—” His words are lost because standing before him is someone Stiles never thought he’d see again. “It’s _you_ …”

The impressive brows on the guy's face pull down into a frown. The sharp cut of his cheekbones and jawline create menacing shadows. Stiles would make a quip about resting murder face if not for the memory of how vulnerable this man looked so long ago, hunched in on himself as he waited for his uncle and sister outside the sheriff’s office. It may have been six years, but Stiles would recognize those eyes anywhere.

_Derek._

“What are you doing here? Huh? This is private property.” 

Stiles holds up his hands in self-preservation, palms out, to show he’s unarmed and harmless. “Uh, sorry, man, we didn't know.” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he nods towards the rest of the partygoers at Lydia’s annual back-to-school bash. 

“If you want, I can—” Stiles turns back to Derek, but he’s gone, vanishing as mysteriously as he appeared. If it weren’t for the ghost of Derek’s hands on his hips, he would have sworn he’d imagined seeing him again.

Kicking at the dirt, Stiles sighs heavily. Did Derek not recognize him? Of course not. It’s been six years, and Stiles has grown up a lot in that time. They both have. Surely Derek’s own pendant warmed in Stiles’s presence, though. Didn’t it? But that’s not even the most crucial question. 

What’s he doing back? 

The sounds of the party die out the further Stiles travels into the preserve. Without thinking about it, his feet take him towards the dilapidated shell of the old Hale house. The trees cast ominous shadows in the early autumn breeze, dark fingers stretching toward him in the moonlight. Stiles shivers, briskly rubbing his hands up and down his arms, smoothing away the goosebumps as he blows out a breath. 

He hasn’t been out here in a while. After the Hales left and the unsolved case was filed away to gather dust, Stiles would come out and visit what was left of his soulmate’s childhood home. At first, he searched for clues—about what caused the fire or where Derek could have gone—but he was only a kid. He didn’t have the first idea of how to ‘investigate.’ Besides, everything he needed was in the file his father denied him access to.

When he got over the inability to solve the case, Stiles started visiting as a way to connect to Derek. What wasn’t destroyed by flames and soot became precious to him, from the scorched wolf figurine he found hidden under the crumbling remnants of a dresser to the half-burned copy of The Lord of the Rings. And as much as Stiles wanted to take the items, they weren’t his, so he left them in place and would continue to go out to the property whenever he could. 

His visits slowed over the years. Now he only comes out when he’s sad or lonely. When he aches for his soulmate.

The pendant on Stiles’s necklace starts to warm again, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He’s being watched. 

“I thought I told you to leave.” Stiles’s heart might race, but he doesn’t startle as Derek steps from the shadowy tree line. 

Usually, Stiles would have a sarcastic comeback, but there's tension in the air and he has an important question. “What are you doing back?”

Those impressive-looking brows shoot up as Derek looks at him with a scowl. “Do I know you?”

It’s hard for Stiles to distinguish between the Derek he met so long ago, the one he got to know through scavenging the bones of the Hale house, and the Derek that stands before him now. Neither version of Derek ever had a chance to get to know _him_. Stiles isn’t sure Derek would even want to. Why had that thought never crossed his mind? “No. I guess not.”

“You guess not.”

Crickets chirp as Stiles realizes Derek’s waiting for an answer. “Oh! Was that a question? Inflection, dude. It’s a thing. And no. I mean, you don’t know me, but I know you. Who you are at least. Derek Hale.”

A muscle in Derek’s jaw jumps, and when he takes a step forward, Stiles can see his fists clenched by his sides. “Who are you? How do you know me?!”

Tumbling back with the force of Derek’s words, Stiles, who on a good day is still clumsy, trips over his own feet. His arms go flailing as he tries to catch himself, managing to land on his ass with a dull _thud_. He scrambles back, twigs digging into his palms, as Derek stalks forward. 

“I met you once!” 

When Derek stops in his tracks, Stiles sits up and crosses his legs. The position puts a strain on his neck as he looks up at Derek, but for some reason, maybe it’s the predatory look in Derek’s eyes, he feels the need to make himself seem smaller. 

“It was the night of the fire,” Stiles continues. “At the sheriff’s station.”

Derek narrows his eyes, and Stiles can’t help but shrink at the scrutinizing look Derek gives him. His nostrils flare like he’s sniffing the air, and his features soften. “You. It was you. You gave— You gave me a hug.”

Stiles shrugs, ignoring when Derek’s eyes track his fingers as they fidget with his pendant. “You looked like you needed one. I didn’t know until after-” he waves his other hand in the direction of the ruined house- “about the fire.” He doesn’t say he’s sorry, like others probably would, somehow knowing it’s not what Derek would want.

Leaves crumble under Derek’s boots as he steps forward, and Stiles feels the heat radiating from his body as Derek kneels in front of him. His hand is engulfed by Derek’s as he turns it, exposing the pendant in his palm. “I lost mine.”

Tilting his head, Stiles nods for Derek to continue.

“After the fire… I don’t know how much you know about it.”

“Almost nothing,” Stiles says quickly, hoping Derek will explain.

“There are things that I can’t tell you, at least not yet.” Derek lets go of the pendant and sits back on his heels. “My sister, Laura-” he takes a breath like he’s setting up for a long story- “her soulmate didn’t— I don’t really know how to— Her soulmate didn’t care for her or our family. In fact, she hated us.”

Stiles opens his mouth to ask why, but Derek cuts him off. 

“Don’t ask. It’s not something I can—”

“Okay,” Stiles says hurriedly, one hand reaching out to comfort before dropping it, realizing it might not be wanted. “It’s okay.”

“She did it. _Kate_. She trapped my family in the house and started the fire. I don’t have proof, which is why it remains unsolved. It’s also why we ran.”

“You and Laura. Your uncle, too, right?” Stiles glances around.

“It’s just me now.”

The words are heavy, weighed down with grief, pain, and anger. Derek doesn’t need to say it, Stiles can tell from his somber tone. They’re gone. 

How? Did Kate follow them? Kill them? Where is she now?

“Why are you back?” is what he goes with, which Derek doesn’t answer.

“When we left— _before_ we left—I took it off.” Derek gestures at the pendant Stiles is still playing with. “Tossed it. Out there.” He gestures at the trees surrounding them. “I was scared. Soulmates are… They’re supposed to be perfect for you. Not someone who tries to kill you. And yeah, you might have been a kid, but I— Not after that.”

“I get it,” Stiles says with a heavy heart and sad smile. He’s always held onto a bit of hope when it comes to his soulmate. That one day, Derek would be back, and they’d meet and get to know each other. While he understands Derek’s reluctance when it comes to soulmates, the rejection still stings.

Swallowing thickly, he gets up and wipes the dirt from his pants. “You should talk to my dad. About the fire. He always thought there was something he was missing. If you tell him about Kate, I’m sure he’d reopen the case, figure something out that ties her to it. At least if she’s behind bars, you won’t have to keep running.”

“She’ll never hurt anyone again. I made sure of it.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat and rubs a hand through his hair. Derek looks at him, not saying anything. “I guess I’ll just—” He turns to leave but doesn’t get far. 

Derek wraps his hand securely around Stiles’s wrist.

“Don’t go. I—” That vulnerable look is back on Derek’s face. “I came back for— I wanted to see if I could find it. My pendant. I wanted to find you.”

“You did?” 

“My uncle. He told me—” Stiles waits as Derek composes himself. “Kate was the exception. He told me I shouldn’t live my life based on what happened to Laura. I’d decided a while ago that when it was safe, I would come back.”

“For…” Stiles doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he needs to know. “For me?”

Nodding, Derek steps into his space, placing a hand on Stiles’s hip. They’re almost the same height, making it easy to stare into the kaleidoscope of colors that are Derek’s eyes. “For my soulmate.”

* * *

Epilogue - One Year Later

“If I trip and fall, I’m lining my window with mountain ash…” Stiles holds his hands out, feeling for trees and branches as he walks through the preserve. The blindfold Derek gave him in the Camaro fits snug around his head, effectively blocking his vision. 

Stumbling slightly, strong hands grip his waist, and the heat of Derek’s chest against his back gives him a sense of relief. He shivers as Derek whispers in his ear, “I’ve got you, Stiles. Just a few more steps.”

Once he’s directed on where to stand, he closes his eyes like Derek instructs and reaches back to untie the blindfold. “Okay.” His fingers shake slightly as the anticipation builds. The last time Derek had been so secretive was when he sat Stiles down and told him about werewolves as if he hadn’t already figured it out. A subtle ‘wolf, Derek Hale is not.

“Ready?” He startles at Derek’s touch. Deft hands replace his own to remove the covering from his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, you’re killing me here, dude.” 

“ _So_ impatient,” Derek _tsks_ before kissing the side of his head. “Open your eyes.”

Stiles squints at first, holding a hand up to block the assault of sunlight. As he blinks, the blurred surroundings come into focus. Standing before them should be the ruins of Hale house. Instead, the once run-down building is gone. In its place is a large hole surrounded by bulldozers and backhoes. A dumpster stands nearby along with pallets of bricks.

With curiosity, he takes a step forward and peers into the crater. “What is all this?”

“I called the city and got permits for demolition and rebuilding.” 

Stiles gasps softly and looks over his shoulder as Derek shrugs. “But we’ve still got a lot of debris to clear out.”

“I thought you were selling the land, though.”

“I know that’s what we talked about, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this is my home. Forget about four walls and a roof. I grew up here, in these woods.” 

Derek strides away, his hand reaching out to touch the bark of a nearby tree. “I clawed this tree when I shifted for the first time, climbed another to sneak out at night. I _miss_ running through the preserve during full moons. I have memories here that aren’t tarnished by that night. And I want the chance to make new ones. With you.”

Looking around, Stiles can envision it. Steps that no longer creak beneath his feet as he walks up the large wraparound porch. He can practically feel the wood grain of a new railing under his fingers and smiles at the image of them sitting on Adirondack chairs, watching the sunset through the trees.

“You can see it, right?” Derek asks, hot breath fanning over Stiles’s cheek as he steps closer. “We’ll hang pictures on the walls. You’ll toss your Mets cap on the coffee table, and I’ll leave my books everywhere.”

“And you’ll insist on a TV in the bedro—”

Derek cuts him off with a kiss. “I _like_ watching documentaries before bed, Stiles.”

Throwing his head back, Stiles laughs and the sound echoes through the trees. “You are-” he loops his arms around Derek’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss- “an absolutely _ridiculous_ man. And I love you for it.”

Derek ducks his head and smiles shyly, the tips of his ears tinged pink. “I have one more surprise.”

“ _Another_ one?” Knowing Derek has plans to build a house for them is already so much more than Stiles could have ever dreamed. “Derek, you don’t have to—” 

Derek pulls away as Stiles talks, reaching into his pocket to pull out a silver rope chain. 

“Is this—” The oval pendant is dropped into Stiles’s palm. As he turns it over, the polished stone casts off different hues of blue, gold, and coppery-red in the light. Though he’s been told about it, he’d never seen the beautiful labradorite stone that Derek once wore, but the warmth on his palm tells him that this is Derek’s lost soulmate pendant. Tears well in his eyes as he looks up at Derek. “Where’d you—”

Stiles can’t help but lean into the touch as Derek caresses his cheek. “I found it a couple of weeks ago when I was walking with the surveyor. The stone was scratched and the clasp on the necklace broke, so I sent it out to a jeweler to get fixed. Got it back this morning.”

Putting the chain back around Derek’s neck, Stiles hugs him tightly. He recognizes the searing jolt of electricity from so long ago that told him he found his soulmate, and he smiles brightly because this time Derek’s not going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments give me life <3  
> no like seriously, i’m addicted to them
> 
> i’ve got a [tumblr](http://evanesdust.tumblr.com/)


End file.
